


A Secret Meaning for a Secret Meeting

by mafreila



Category: TsukiPro the Animation
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, M/M, Rivalry, Semi-Public Sex, but will he ever admit that? no of course not, mitsuru is actually kinda tsun for ryou, this is a rarepair but just hear me out ok. they'd have the best hatesex ever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 12:10:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16218764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mafreila/pseuds/mafreila
Summary: Mitsuru provokes Ryouta, and Ryouta takes the bait. The tension eventually gets to be too much for him, but not in the way that everyone thinks it would effect him.





	A Secret Meaning for a Secret Meeting

It had been a long day of worming their way through a rather tedious schedule, when the members of Growth now sat grouped together on a familiar couch after having been interviewed for about thirty minutes by now. Their part of the segment was over, but...

 

_ “And now, please welcome our special guests, ZIX!” _

 

Ryouta stiffens on instinct at the unit name uttered by the talkshow host; from his side, Kensuke offers him a sheepish smile, as if trying to silently apologize, or more likely to serve as a humble warning not to let his hatred get too out of hand on a live broadcast.

 

The tension between the two rivals was certainly no secret, with the way they glared at each other nonstop during talkshows, tossing passive aggressive comments back and forth without even noticing the discomfort of those around them. That appeared to be a charm for the audience, though, as they always seemed to enjoy when the two units were paired together. Perhaps that was the reason why Growth had been begged to remain on the air while ZIX made a quick announcement, just to see the sparks go off between Ryouta and Mitsuru.

 

“Hi, everyone!” 

 

“Tch.” Ryouta clicks his tongue, narrowing his eyes at the source of the obnoxious, high-pitched voice that pierces the air, sounding as perfidiously chipper as ever--Mitsuru.

 

Mitsuru gasps, placing a hand over his mouth as if pretending to be shocked by the other idol’s hostility. “Woah,  _ someone  _ woke up on the wrong side of the bed!” The crowd chuckles at the comment, and Ryouta feels his eyebrow twitch in annoyance. He can feel his friends’ stares on him, begging him not to take the obvious bait dangling in front of him.

 

Taking a deep breath, Ryouta folds his hands in his lap, tapping his foot impatiently against the floor beneath him. “I slept just fine, thanks. I  _ always  _ appreciate your concern.” There’s a clear sarcastic note to his voice as he says it, a half-smirk plastering itself onto his face.  _ Someone looks like they just woke up, though,  _ he thinks to himself, struggling not to mutter it aloud. 

 

“Ahh, must be nice! Makoto and I were up  _ soooo  _ late last night working hard…” He frowns, taking a seat much too close to where Growth was already seated for Ryouta’s comfort. 

 

Maybe it was because Mitsuru could sense how on-edge Ryouta was, or maybe it was just because he genuinely enjoyed screwing with the member of Growth; the reason didn’t really matter too much, but what  _ did  _ matter was the way he offered a sly grin before he began peeling his gloves off with his teeth at a deliberately slow pace. An enormous amount of screams could be heard from the crowd at the overly seductive action, and Ryouta hates that even he feels a twinge of heat deep within his chest. 

 

That wasn’t his fault though, it certainly wasn’t his fault for him to feel stirred up by that sight when Mitsuru  _ always  _ took his gloves like that around Ryouta, especially just before he would wrap those lithe fingers around his throbbing cock and--

 

“Oi, Earth to Ryouta!”

 

A voice snapped him out of his sudden detour of thoughts, making him nearly jump in his seat. He silently cursed the messy teal-haired idol, who was staring right at him with a knowing look on his face. “Sorry, what did you say?” he asks, running a hand through his bangs in an attempt to straighten himself up. 

 

“Hmm, are you sure you actually slept well? An idol should never space out like that on a talkshow!” Mitsuru scolds, puffing his cheeks out in a disappointed pout. “Oh, give me a break,” Ryouta mutters under his breath, feeling his shoulders stiffen up. He doesn’t feel like he can put up with this…  _ brat  _ for much longer.

 

“The question was how our rivalry with ZIX is going,” Kouki offers in a soft tone, worry glittering in those sky blue eyes of his. Guilt forms a lump in Ryouta’s throat, not wanting to have caused the wonderfully elegant Kouki to be concerned about him. If he ever were to know the reason why he was spacing out…

 

_ “All your little friends would be so disgusted if they caught us like this,” Mitsuru murmured into Ryouta’s ear, his breath warm and damp against his flushed skin. “Surely they’d think you must be suuuuch a desperate little whore, wanting so badly to get fucked that you’d go to your own rival for sex...” _

 

Remembering those words makes Ryouta shiver, and suddenly the room feels a hundred degrees warmer from when they’d first sat down. This could be seriously bad if things continue like this, he thinks, uncomfortably tugging at the collar of his shirt. Making eye contact with Mitsuru, he takes another long breath before speaking.

 

“Everything with ZIX is going fine. Mitsuru is such a wonderful rival to have, as always.”

 

The satisfied look on Mitsuru’s face made Ryouta want to sink down under his seat and disappear. He hated giving the other boy what he obviously wanted, bowing down so low to allow himself to lose to his rival. But right now, in this moment, he couldn’t help it.

 

To everyone else, that phrase seemed perfectly normal, a simple answer to a simple question. In reality, it was anything but that; however, only Mitsuru and Ryouta knew of a deeper meaning behind it. If one of them were to call the other a “wonderful rival,” then that meant they wished to meet up immediately after whatever event they were dealing with had finished. 

 

“Aw, I’m flattered that you would say that, Ryou! Am I your favorite rival?”

 

“...You’re my  _ only  _ rival.”

 

Finishing out their specific set of phrases, Ryouta feels his heart threatening to jump out of his throat from the adrenaline pumping through his veins. Knowing what was to come soon was making him more and more worked up, and he shifted in his seat uncomfortably. The teasing laugh bubbling out of Mitsuru’s chest only made the feeling worse. 

 

“Well, anyways, to get to the point,” Makoto speaks up, glancing to the side at his partner before turning back to the audience. “ZIX is going to be releasing a new single in few weeks, and we wanted to get the word out so you can all be sure to get your copy in time. Look forward to it.”  
  
“Makoto’s _sooo_ cool, isn’t he?!” Mitsuru giddily exclaims, patting the taller boy on the back. “That’s right, our new single is going to be a bit of a change for us. We wanted to try a new style of music, so we hope you’ll all enjoy it!” Throwing a peace sign in the air, the smaller boy grins and rises to his feet. 

 

“Now then… Growth is surely tired by now, so we should wrap things up, huh? You’ve all finished your segment, and we’ve said what we came here to say. I think that about does it, right?” Mitsuru stares expectantly at Ryouta as he speaks, crossing his arms over his chest. 

 

“Right. We appreciate you all for joining us, and please do look forward to more news from us, both Growth and ZIX, soon.” Kouki smiles softly, standing up and motioning for the others to do the same. Ryouta does so, but on notably shaky legs, feeling as if his whole body was trembling. He felt humiliated that he could be reduced to such a state already, before anything has even happened; at this point he just considered himself lucky that he wasn’t hard--yet.

 

Practically rushing off stage, Ryouta turns back to face his teammates, noting how ZIX is already heading back to their dressing room. “I have something I need to take care of for a bit, are you guys going to grab a bite to eat before heading back?” he asks, tilting his head to the side. 

 

“What could  _ you  _ possibly have to take care of here?” Kensuke inquires, a hint of suspicion in the way he asked the question. Ryouta hesitates, assuring himself that someone who was as much of an airhead as the blue-haired boy wouldn’t ever be able to figure out his secret. 

 

“It’s nothing you need to worry about,” he says matter-of-factly, placing his hand on his hip. “I’ll be back in a bit, if you guys are going to eat grab me something to take home,” he requests before turning to scurry off.

 

“Is he going to be alright…?” Kouki asks, eyebrows furrowing in concern. Mamoru laughs nervously, but doesn’t answer; as much as they conspired, none of them could imagine why Ryouta was in such a rush, what kind of things he was up to in his private life. It didn’t help that he always swept those kinds of things under a rug, determined to not let anyone get too close to him or learn too much about him.

 

“Let’s just leave it be for now,” Kensuke finally suggests, sparing one final glance over his shoulder towards the figure growing more and more distant from them as they stood circled up. It would have to be an issue for later, something they could ask him about when they’d arrived back at the dorms. It wasn’t any use worrying about it now.

 

\---

 

“...Took you long enough,” Mitsuru spits when Ryouta enters the empty dressing room of his rival. “Oh, shut up. Don’t talk as if Makoto didn’t literally  _ just  _ leave,” the silver-haired boy retorts, pink eyes flaring. 

 

“Look at you, acting like such a smartass!” Mitsuru grits his teeth, that familiar feeling of anger and hatred swelling up in his chest. “Why don’t you use that sharp tongue of yours for something better?” As he speaks, he fumbles with his pants, loosening them to untuck himself. Curling his fingers around his dick, he begins to leisurely stroke himself to get hard; Ryouta watches silently, his mouth going dry.

 

“...Well? You gonna just stare, or what?” Mitsuru asks, voice brimming with impatience. “I know you’re desperate to get my cock inside of you, let’s get a move on already.” 

 

Breath hitching in his throat at the comment, Ryouta doesn’t waste time in sinking down to his knees, pressing his lips to the tip of Mitsuru’s cock for a moment before slowly taking it into his mouth.

 

Groaning at the damp heat engulfing him, Mitsuru thrusts forward on instinct, causing Ryouta to gag around his cock. There’s no apology to be heard, though they both know there’s none needed; this was the way they both liked things, rough and aggressive. He thrusts again, this time deliberately, and he shudders at the way the other’s throat contracts around him in protest. 

 

Tears pricking at the edges of Ryouta’s eyes, he does his best to continue bobbing his head, tongue sliding along the length sliding to the back of his throat. It was hard to continue breathing when he kept gagging like this, so he had to take large breaths through his nose in between thrusts, strategically going about his assigned task. 

 

“Alright, t-that’s enough,” Mitsuru suddenly speaks, the way his voice falters giving away the fact that he had been close. As much as Ryouta wants to tease him for that, he isn’t given a chance as the other looming above him suddenly takes a tight hold of his hair, dragging him off of his cock. Gasping at the pain that shoots down his spine, Ryouta squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, trying to normalize his breathing once again now that his mouth was free.

 

Mitsuru releases his grip, letting Ryouta stagger backward and regain his footing before he corners him up against the wall, placing his knee between his rival’s legs. “Hard already?” He obverses. “Do you like being used that much, Ryou? I bet you would have loved for me to keep fucking your throat until I choked you with my cum, right?”

 

Although he refuses to answer, his body gives himself away, cock twitching within the confines of his pants. “Just take a look at yourself,” Mitsuru continues as he slides the zipper on Ryouta’s pants down, rubbing the other’s bulge to elicit a moan from Ryouta’s half-parted lips, “you’re already coming so undone for me. I’m so glad that I get to see this slutty side of you.”

 

“I-I’m not…” 

 

“Whaat? You’re not a slut?” Mitsuru frowns, dragging out the other’s erection and curling his fingers around it. Ryouta lets out a moan, grinding up against the touch desperately, to which Mitsuru laughs. “See, look how needy you are for me… You’re leaking so much when I’ve barely even touched you. You can’t deny how much of a slut you are,” he coos, pumping the idol’s cock slowly but with enough force to drive Ryouta crazy.

 

“H-hah…. Quit fooling around already,” Ryouta snaps, biting the inside of his cheek as he bucks his hips once more against Mitsuru’s hand, trying to gain more friction. He hated how good the other could make him feel, how much he longed for this; it wasn’t right, wasn’t something he could ever bring himself to admit.

 

“I can’t help it~ You can be so cute when you’re all desperate like this, I like you sooo much better when you’re begging for my cock.” Mitsuru smirks, moving his hand away from Ryouta’s length to rub along the insides of his thighs teasingly. 

 

“Fuck you,” Ryouta spits, body trembling slightly at the loss of contact. Mitsuru ignores his venomous words, sliding the other’s pants completely off his legs to gain further access. There was a moment where Mitsuru just stared down at him, and Ryouta could swear he saw a glint of admiration in those eyes, which made him shudder. “Hurry up already,” he urges, a feeling of embarrassment flooding over him. It was an uncomfortable feeling and he wanted it to go away as soon as possible.

 

Mitsuru seemed to snap out of it at his request, coughing awkwardly under his breath before shoving three fingers forcefully against Ryouta’s lips, who immediately parts his mouth in response, sloppily dragging his tongue against Mitsuru’s skin. The teal-haired idol shivers a bit at the wetness coating over his fingers, staring intently at the bit of drool dribbling its way down Ryouta’s chin. “W-Wow, you’re really into this aren’t you,” he stammers, a rare blush dusting his cheeks. Normally he’d continue the comment, insulting his rival and degrading him, but Ryouta makes a mental note that he seems too flustered to even think straight.  _ Interesting. _

 

Giving the digits in his mouth one last deliberate, slow lick, Ryouta pulls away, a line of saliva still connecting his mouth for a short moment before it broke apart.

 

“Didn’t know you would get so embarrassed over me sucking your fingers when you seem to be perfectly capable of keeping a straight face when I suck your dick,” Ryouta says smugly, raising an eyebrow. 

 

“S-Shut up, I’m just tired, okay! I said already that I was up late last night! Don’t get so cocky!” Tumbling over his words, Mitsuru’s lip quivers as he desperately tries to defend himself. “I didn’t ask for an excuse,” Ryouta sighs, and he lets out a soft groan as a finger finally forces its way into him. His back was digging into the wall behind him, and his knees felt weak from trying to support himself; not an ideal position at all, but he knows Mitsuru would bite his head off if he tried to suggest moving onto a couch or anything of the sort. 

 

Much before he was ready, Mitsuru had already added another finger, and Ryouta grits his teeth at the burning sensation forcefully stretching him out. “Pain really is such a cute look on you,” the ZIX member remarks, carefully observing the way the other boy’s face scrunches up in discomfort. “Maybe next time I’ll have to just shove my cock inside of you without fingering you,” he suggests as he adds the last finger, smiling to himself at the thought. “It’ll have to be somewhere private though, ‘cuz I know you’ll probably be screaming my name till your throat’s raw, riiight?”

 

Ryouta wants to retort, but he can’t because right after making that comment, Mitsuru pushes in that last finger and all he can manage is the high-pitched whine that involuntarily  bubbles out from his throat. It was enough to feel _some_ pleasure from, but just wasn’t enough; it was practically torture at that point. He grinds his hips down, feeling the other’s knuckles brushing up against his entrance. “Stand still,” Mitsuru hisses, shoving Ryouta against the wall.

 

As often as they’ve done this, by now Mitsuru knows every inch of Ryouta’s body, knows every last thing he can do to please the other boy; or to  _ not  _ please him. With an arrogant smirk, he angles his fingers so that they just barely brush up against Ryouta’s prostate, and he wallows in the look of pure horror that crosses the silver-haired boy’s face at the feeling. “Fu--fuck, Mitsuru, don’t pull this shit, dammit--!” 

 

“Huuuh? Why not? It’s fun to toy with you like this. Your reactions are so funny~!”

 

Whimpering, Ryouta looks up at him with eyes glimmering with pure lust and need. There’s a long pause, which Mitsuru can assume is him trying to decide whether to prioritize his pride or his need to get off. In the end, the latter seemed to click into place, as he bit his lip and then took a deep breath in.

 

“Will you just get your cock inside me already, this isn’t fucking funny, I need you so bad right now--”

 

“I know, I know, I get it. You don’t have to tell me, I can already tell just by how dripping wet you are.”

 

As if to prove his point, Mitsuru slides his fingers out--which earns him a disappointed groan in response--and uses them to scoop up some of the pre-cum leaking from Ryouta’s throbbing erection, holding the digits up for his rival to see. 

 

“If you get it, then just--”

 

He was cut off when Mitsuru pushed into him without any warning in the middle of his sentence; all Ryouta could do was scream out in some garbled mixture of pain, pleasure, and shock, though a hand was quickly clamped over his mouth to muffle the noise. “Dammit, Ryou, do you  _ want  _ people to hear you?!” Mitsuru exclaims under his breath, eyes flaring with annoyance as he began thrusting, causing Ryouta to moan against his hand. “Actually, don’t answer that. I already know that you’d love to be caught getting your tight little ass fucked by your own rival, to let everyone see what a little  _ whore  _ you are just for me, huh,” the words were spat in a dangerously low voice, one that sent heat straight down to Ryouta’s cock. 

 

“You make yourself out to be so cool and composed, so carefully put together your public image… if word of this were to get out, that persona would be  _ toootally  _ shattered, you know~? Everyone would realize that deep down, all you are is a cock-hungry slut.” 

 

With every sentence, Ryouta feels as if he’s being pushed down further and further into a pool of pure bliss, his head being forced underwater until his head grows foggy from dizziness. A stream of moans escaped him without any attempt to hold them back, or rather the thought of trying to be quiet didn’t even occur to him because of the pleasure overwhelming his mind. His arms wrapped themselves tight around Mitsuru’s torso, pressing their bodies closer together as he was fucked up against the wall, thrusts growing harder and faster by the moment.

 

“You really like being degraded like that, don’t you? Sooo disgusting, are you gonna keep thinking about someone walking in on us because you can’t keep your slutty little voice down?” 

 

While speaking, Mitsuru strategically adjusted his angle to pound directly into Ryouta’s prostate, earning him a scream of ecstasy that even the hand pressed up against his mouth couldn’t fully muffle. “Go on and come for me, Ryou,” he pants heavily against Ryouta’s ear, his voice breaking with the effort of speaking. 

 

As if on cue, Ryouta felt himself being pushed over the edge, his world going white for what felt like an eternity. “Mitsuru, oh  _ God _ , Mitsuru, Mitsuru,” he whimpered as he came, bucking his hips down erratically against the other’s cock as he rode out his orgasm, cum spraying across his stomach, staining his shirt in various spots.

 

Mitsuru was quick to follow suit, letting Ryouta ride him while he emptied himself into his rival’s hole, some dripping out and onto the carpet beneath them. They both remained silent aside from panting heavily for breath for several moments.

 

Mitsuru lowered Ryouta onto the floor, who struggled to regain his footing again. Standing up straight was certainly impossible for him after just having such a strong orgasm, so he leaned against the wall for extra support, head spinning in the most pleasant way imaginable. 

 

“Aw, you dirtied your pretty little shirt… How are you gonna explain why your outfit’s all ruined with cum, huh? Gonna tell your friends that you went to whore out behind their backs?” 

 

Ryouta grits his teeth and shoves Mitsuru rather forcefully away from him, shivering as he felt the sudden emptiness of not having anything inside of him, followed by the gross feeling of cum dribbling out of his hole. “I’ll clean it myself, thanks. It’s really not that hard.”

 

“So meeaan, Ryou! You shouldn’t be so violent all the time, it’s not cute.” Mitsuru brushes the dust off of himself with a frown, examining the small wet spots along the floor. “Well, you got what you wanted. Run along now, I’m sure we’ll have lots of fun at the next shoot we do together too!” Giggling mischievously, Mitsuru tucks himself back into his pants while running off to grab tissues to clean up the rest of the evidence of their….  _ rendezvous _ . 

 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Ryouta muttered as he stepped back into his clothing, doing his best to ignore the unclean feeling of being unable to bathe immediately after sex. He’d have to insist on being the first to have the bath tonight, he decided, rubbing the back of his neck as he stepped outside of the dressing room with caution.

 

“Ah  _ hah _ ! There you are!” The sudden exclamation made Ryouta’s heart nearly stop in the depths of his chest, jumping in shock. “K-Ken?!” He squawked, seeing his blue-haired bandmate waiting for him around the corner. “What are you doing?!” He demands, trying his best to hide the panic flooding through him. How long had he been there? Had he heard…

 

Ryouta didn’t even want to finish the thought. Even someone as airheaded as Kensuke would have been able to figure out what was going on if he had been standing outside for long enough. “I came to track you down. Kouki was really worried you know! And he was right to be, you really shouldn’t be trying to play pranks on ZIX, Ryou. I know you hate them, but sneaking into their dressing room to mess with their stuff… that’s gonna cause a lot of problems!”

 

Letting out a breath that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, Ryouta feels an overwhelming wave of relief wash over him, shoulders slumping down from their instinctively stiffened state. “Prank, huh…” he murmurs under his breath. “Yeah, I know, Ken. I didn’t do anything that would cause chaos, I promise.” 

 

Well, it wasn’t necessarily a lie, right?

 

“If you say so,” Ken secedes with a shrug, shoving his thumbs in his pockets with a lopsided smile. “Anyways, let’s go--Kouki’s treating us all to ramen, he wanted to wait for you before we left. I’m starving, you know!”

 

“Yeah, yeah, let’s go…” Ryouta feels his muscles screaming in protest as Kensuke drags him along, knowing he was going to feel the pain of being pressed up against the wall for the next day or two. But at the very least, he’d managed to dodge a bullet with almost being caught… 

 

That was enough to get him by.

**Author's Note:**

> lmao ken gave my poor boy ryouta a HEART ATTACK
> 
> its up to you to decide whether ken genuinely didn't get there in time to overhear, or if he was just lying about it (bonus points if he was listening in and jacking off to them huhu)
> 
> anyways yeah mitsuru and ryouta as a hateship is so good and they have the roughest steamiest sex. thanks for coming to my ted talk


End file.
